but seriously i liked this shot

Keith works out, Lance ogles happily, Pidge tries to analyze the nature of their PDA ... she swiftly regrets all the things.

Some very kind people have sent me some very kind asks and made me feel better about being sick lately — and suddenly, my fingers were doing a thing on the keyboard? This thing, specifically? Just, everyone is so very nice, and I hope you like this silly little one-shot about silly space boys :) (Special shout-out to the anonymous person that called out this idea before I posted! Such amazing psychic powers! :D)

******

“But seriously, if my calculations are correct — shut your mouth, Lance, they are always correct — then Keith is initiating fifty two point seven percent of the times you make me want to invent brain bleach.” Pidge pauses to push her glasses up her nose. “Keith, care to offer some insight into this?”

“No.” Keith resumes lifting weights. Really, discovering the Castle’s weight room was one of the worst things that could have happened to Lance — now his boyfriend split his free time between training simulations and tossing around heavy things/running on treadmills. 

The Red Paladin had become a gym rat. The Blue Paladin was not surprised.

Also, Keith didn’t need more muscles, as Lance didn’t need that kind of heart attack. Even if watching those bicep strain was … nice.

“My boo is just too hot to trot for my banging bod,” Lance says proudly, flexing his own (not quite as big but still very impressive) biceps.

Keith stops lifting weights so he can face palm. Pidge stares up towards the heavens in supplication.

“That’s going in my notes as one of the top five worst things you’ve ever said. Maybe top three.” Pidge actually takes out her computer to write it down.

Keith, with his face still buried in one hand, points with his other and says, “I don’t know if I can kiss that mouth at all today. That was horrifying.”

“Fifty two point seven percent, querido,” Lance cheerfully reminds him. “Ain’t nobody buying what you’re selling.”

Keith shoots Pidge a despairing glance. “I mean, was the pining that bad, really? Would it be so terrible to go back to that?”

Lance has taken a seat directly across from Keith, lifting a set of weights (they were barbells with rocks on either end — Coran had said something about how one could alter the density, thereby making them heavier/lighter, but Lance had immediately gotten distracted by challenging everyone to a weight lifting competition and somehow it ended with Hunk bench-pressing Lance and Pidge, and Shiro trying to throw Keith over their heads? Lance still doesn’t quite understand what happened there).

“I feel like the reason Keith is macking on me in public more is because he’s kinda into the fact that he can,” Lance explains, grunting a little as he tries to mimic Keith’s moves. “I mean, the pining was so real — he had been staring lingeringly at me from afar for so long, and now it’s like, free pass to grope all the time.” Lance winks at Keith, who is venturing to peek at him from between his fingers. “Because you do. Have a free pass. To grope. Put your hands any —”

“I know.” Keith lifts his weights with relative ease, a small smile pulling on his lips. “And yeah, Pidge. Maybe that’s part of it.”

“Part of it?” Lance asks, somewhat breathlessly as he switches arms since his right one was starting to ache from the effort. “Dude. All of it. Your thirstiness is not to be denied.”

Pidge rolls her eyes, jotting down a few more notes from her perch on the jungle gym (like, with actual vines for swinging and bouncy giant lily pads — Lance could not get over how cool Alteans were). “Believe it or not, I actually came to that conclusion on my own — Keith is now thirty six point four percent more affectionate with everyone, not just you, Lance.”

“That’s … really sweet,” Lance says, feeling vaguely proud of both himself and Keith. The idea that he’s making Keith more willing to show his love to the rest of their space family … It’s a little humbling, and a lot of awesome. He can feel his cheeks heating up.

The weights Keith had been lifting are now on the floor as he walks over to Lance, lifting his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. Lance is grinning at the flash of a still slightly soft tummy (Keith has muscle definition, but there’s a small bit of cushiness around his middle that Lance really loves). Lance stops grinning when Keith suddenly drops into his lap, straddling him on the bench without any warning.

“You’re forgetting something key, Pidge,” Keith is saying, glancing over his shoulder at the Green Paladin, who is looking annoyed and amused in equal parts.

“All right, enlighten me.” Pidge grimaces. “With as a little trauma as possible, if you please.”

“I think I’m gonna expire in a minute here, Pidge, mi hermanita querida, would you please spare me the humiliation and not witness this? Keith, whatever it is that you’re thinking —”

Keith covers his mouth with one hand, and Lance tries to speak past it, yelling his objections into the palm of a fingerless glove.

“See, notice how he can still talk?” Keith tilts his head in Lance’s direction, speaking with infuriating calm. “It’s a bit of a problem sometimes. But —”

The hand is gone. Lance is pissed off enough to start shouting, “Hey, you jackass, wail till I —”

Keith’s lips are on his. His mouth falls open automatically, and Lance sort of loses the thread of … reality. Pidge whips them both in the head with a towel, which is when his wondrous boyfriend pulls away, leaving Lance gaping, licking his lips, and contemplating if he should still be irritated.

“Efficient, no?” Keith asks, his dark eyes glinting.

Pidge is glaring at him. “Except for the brain bleach aspect. Which I am going to go work on now. With Hunk’s help, he is one hundred percent behind me on this. There are cameras in here, by the way, not that that’s ever stopped you before …” She gets up and walks out, though not before ruffling Lance’s hair and saying, “You’re such a goner, hermano.”

When she’s gone, and Lance is left with nothing but a smug Red Paladin sitting on his thighs, he huffs, jabbing at Keith’s chest. “So you’re kissing me to shut me up most of the time?”

“Not most of the time,” Keith admits, his smirk easing back into a smile. “But Pidge would have probably gagged if I told her the main reason.”

“It’s not the ‘can’t resist my stellar good looks’?” Lance pouts. “That’s a little disappointing.”

Keith presses a quick kiss to his mouth. He’s flushed from exercise, but Lance swears his cheeks get a little bit darker as he speaks, “It’s because half the time I think I’ve made up this whole stupid thing, okay? We got together at a freaking ball. There was a duel involved. And dancing in fancy suits.” Keith waves his hands around for emphasis before crossing his arms. “And we still argue like … It’s fine, but it feels like before sometimes, so I just … need to make sure it’s not. Like before.”

Lance follows these words until he understands where they’re leading and then … He’s blushing, and smiling, and pulling Keith in closer. “You … you need to make sure this is real. That you didn’t … dream it. Because … I’m that good of a dream, huh?”

Keith groans, burying his face in Lance’s shoulder. “Crap. Okay, backtrack, I never said anything, especially not that stupid, sugary pile of —”

“No, no take backs!” Lance sings. “I … sometimes have the same problem. So, uh, a good chunk of my forty seven point three percent contribution is exactly that.” He smiles up at Keith once the Red Paladin pulls back and sits up a little straighter in Lance’s lap.

“Yeah?” Keith leans down, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Yeah,” Lance whispers against his mouth … which is when a painfully loud alarm goes off, and they are simultaneously soaked in freezing water as sprinklers kick in. Lance shrieks. Keith falls backward off his lap to the now slippery floor.

“You have rooms. Go get in one!” Pidge yells over the Castle comm.

“Please!” That sounded like Shiro’s voice, a little distant from the microphone.

Lance is laughing and shivering, and Keith is back to being mortified, but they adhere to Pidge’s wishes (who knew what she might pull next? Lance wouldn’t put it past her to space them at this point), and take off running. Keith yanks Lance into the gym’s showers.

“No cameras in here,” Keith says, raising an eyebrow. “And I need a shower anyway.”

Lance is rendered speechless. He wonders if this counts as part of Keith’s fifty two point seven percent of PDA. He wonders if Pidge is all-knowing. And then there’s a shirt coming off, and warm water pouring from a shower head, Keith kicking off his shoes from inside the cubicle. Lance can’t think as Keith’s hands reach for his shorts … and then pause.

“Yeah, so you just wait right here — you can take your turn when I’m done.” Keith grins and slams the shower door in his face.

Lance wonders if there’s a way to flush a toilet on a space castle to turn the water into a frigid torture. He says as much out loud, kicking lightly at the door.

Keith is laughing, and Lance may or may not adore that sound more than any other in the universe, except for his mom’s affectionate scolding … So, he decides to wait until the Red Paladin is done and then do his best to up his percentage. Forty seven point three percent simply will not do, Lance thinks to himself with a goofy smile.

******

Random one-shot after Objects in Motion? I think so :) If y’all wanna read about the ball, duel, and dancing, head over there. Thank you to all the wondrous people who have been so awesome to me! You’re all way too amazing for words, but I hope you guys enjoy these above words as a random “thank you!” :D

anonymous asked:

I thought of a new drinking game. Take a shot everytime Emma Watson looks bored and disinterested in Beauty and the Beast. Seriously though just got back. Like it's fine I guess? For kids anyway, But man, she couldn't even bother to be remotely even bemused by the Beast transforming just stood there like :/

she always looks bored tbh.

Is that a Brit thing?

I’m surprised that some people still refer to Yuri on Ice’s content as ‘yaoi fanservice’?

Like, I get that all the butt shots and Victor’s need to get naked every episode are fanservice of some form, but Victor and Yuuri’s relationship just isn’t.

Or, if you think it is, then just tell me: when do interactions between two characters of the same sex stop being ‘fanservice’ and start being a canonical relationship?

Like, seriously how much further do they have to go for you to realize that they’re *gasp* gay for each other?

I mean, what are you expecting? The things we see in straight couples? Like, Idk, maybe physical closeness? Hugs? Holding hands? Touching foreheads? Public declarations of love? The desire to seduce/be seduced by your partner? Mental support? The desire to help someone find confidence in their skills? The desire to know someone better but also the tact of knowing not to push too far? The act of understanding love thanks to one very specific person? The act of dedicating your best work to one specific person? The act of always being there for one specific person?

Come now, you must be dreaming, no pair of two characters of the same sex could get that sort of development.

Oh wait. They already did.

Tell me one more time that Yuri on Ice offers nothing but yaoi fanservice. I double freaking dare you.

But in all seriousness, 6x05 was the best episode of Teen Wolf since its prime back in season 3B. Like, the storytelling was so well done. It actually moved the plot forward. It was shot ridiculously well. The focus was solely on the four main characters, not any irrelevant side characters. There was no obnoxious pop music or cheesy slow motion scenes. It had emotion, depth. It showcased the connection between the characters. It was well-written. The original trio got an amazing, emotional scene together. I could go on forever, but it was just such a step up from a lot of the cheesy, over dramatic shit we’ve gotten in past episodes and it actually furthered the plot and I just fucking LOVED it.


I just want bring up this little shot right here - wherein our favorite drunk Huntsman transitions from initial shock and pain, to confusion, to an open expression of actual fear in seamless beauty - and point out something that not many people seem to be aware of.

Qrow is an extremely vulnerable character.

Saying a character in fictional media is vulnerable is not synonymous with saying they are weak. It simply means that the character has something to lose; something weighing them down emotionally, a constant fear or worry. Vulnerability is that little doubt on a bad day that makes you want to cry.

Think about it. Consider everything Qrow has to deal with, past and present. 

He shadows RNJR in hopes of keeping Ruby, and her friends, safe while in all likelihood knowing full well that he’s the one who set them on such a perilous path in the first place.

His team fell apart because of, now we know, his own sister. Raven tore them apart, Summer died, and Taiyang shut down for an indeterminate stretch of time. 

His Semblance prevents him from being around those he cares for for fear of causing them pain; mental, emotional or physical. He keeps his distance because if he doesn’t, he’ll hurt those he loves. Something will go wrong, and it will be because of him - see the fight in Chapter 7, as it’s a stellar example.

He feels he has no choice but to pick up where Ozpin left off; shoes which are not easily filled. 

He’s quite literally carrying the weight of Remnant on his shoulders.

So, yes. He is badass and has an attitude that could put anyone to shame. But as demonstrated in the above shot, he’s also so incredibly vulnerable, and human, it’s startling.

Props to CRWBY for nailing such a difficult character aspect.


This post goes hand in hand with my previous Ruby one. I’ll likely be doing this for at least one or two moments per character over the next couple episodes, because honestly, there are so many small things I don’t see the fandom mention.

Had it up to here with fascist white-boy apologia in the Star Wars fandom

Kylo is like if the son of an iconic feminist joined the alt right, then shot up his uncle’s place of worship and after years of running wild in the underground neo-Nazi scene emerged to murder his father. Just because some ugly dude on telepathic Force-chan introduced him to the tenents of fascist philosophy and edgelorddom while he was living with his clergyman uncle doesn’t mean he was brainwashed.

On writing
  • Me: Oh I know I'll just write a thing for this trashy pairing haha how fun I'll just make it a straightforward one-shot shippy thing that I don't need to take seriously.
  • Me: *Writes several thousand words of set-up* okay I guess that's fine...
  • Me: *Plans layers of complicated emotional subtext* okay I guess we can have some of that *Writes several more thousand words before getting past the first real shipping scene* uhhhh okay so guess it'll be chaptered...
  • Me: *Plans entire rest of story and realises it's already out of control* goddamit me why are you like this.

I’d really like to know what the heck is going through the minds of the people who take some of the Sherlock Promo Pictures! ‘Let’s just have Sherlock stand on the end of a pier for no reason.‘

And what the heck was with this ‘Standing about randomly with a curtain, looking like I’m in a shower, but fully clothed, with my collar up and my cheekbones…’:

Whatever the heck is going on here:

Randomly on a bloody table!:

The Abba shot:

Pointing randomly/Looking pissed off:

Seriously whatever the heck is going on here:

Standing by the Thames looking moody with some bokeh:

Lots and Lots more random pointing!:

And the entirety of this ‘Looking like we’re an un co-ordinated boyband’ photoshoot:

!!!!!!!

A Lost Bet

Requested By: @bkwrm523

Drabble Prompts: “Wait a second, are you jealous?” AND “Come over here and make me.”

Pairing: Cas x reader

A/N: nsfw warning *dryyyyy humpppiiinngg*. most of it under the cut bc I don’t know how to keep things short apparently hahah.

———————-

“I’m telling you, Y/N, Cas likes you,” Dean said, tossing back another shot at the booth you, him and Sam were sitting in.

“Yeah right,” you rolled your eyes, taking your shot. “He can barely look me in the eye.”

“It’s cause you make him nervous,” Sam smirked.

You furrowed your brow, and Dean cut you off before you could say anything. “Seriously. But if you walked over and talked to one of those guys at the bar, I guarantee he’d suddenly appear and rip the guy a new one.”

Keep reading

The Dinner Party

just a random idea that came to me in a fever dream earlier this week. rated E for explicit smutty smut smut. enjoy!


“You want me to do what?”

Peeta frowned at her foot, wielding the nail polish brush threateningly. “First, I want you to hold still.” Katniss wriggled her toes defiantly but then obliged, hardly daring to breathe when he swiped the coral nail polish onto her big toe in nice, even strokes. It looked perfect, of course. He could always paint better than she could, even nails.

“Seriously, though. You want me to go to a dinner party with you?” she asked. He glanced up at her with a crooked smile before he started painting her next toenail.

“You make it sound like I’ve asked you to strip naked and run around the block or something,” he said, focusing on her toes. She snorted, then clamped her lips shut when he shot her a warning look. Snorting made her foot jiggle, apparently. “It’s just a dinner party. Delly asked everyone to bring a guest–someone, and I quote, ‘interesting.’ So I’m asking you.”

Katniss stared at the top of his head, his blond curls falling across his forehead as he worked. “But I don’t really know her. And what a weird stipulation,” she said with a laugh.

Peeta shrugged. “Delly likes her theme parties,” he muttered, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he delicately painted her pinky toe. Satisfied with his work, he shot her a triumphant smile. “And you’re the most interesting person I know.”

She rolled her eyes. “Says the guy who paints nails better than any girl I know.”

He gave her a look of mock offense. “Are you questioning my masculinity? You know how I feel about rigid gender roles.” Then he held up his hand, palm flat, fingers spread. “And who’s got a steadier hand than me?” She kicked playfully at his hand, and he made a noise of protest, grabbing her ankle to place her foot down on the coffee table. “Don’t mess up my hard work.”

Katniss slumped down into the couch, chewing on her lip. “You know I don’t like people. How am I supposed to be interesting around a bunch of strangers?”

Screwing the nail polish bottle shut, Peeta sat back on his hands. “Just think of it as a challenge. See how often you can work into the conversation that dry wit and razor-sharp sarcasm of yours without them realizing you’re insulting them.”

“Do you want people to hate me?” she asked wryly, folding her arms over her chest. He grinned.

“Delly said interesting. She didn’t say anything about likable.” He laughed when she flipped him off, then pushed off the floor to stand up. “I should head home. But I swear, if you just be yourself, people will love you.” She didn’t think it was that simple. Peeta never had to worry about getting people to like him; it just came naturally to him. But she didn’t argue the point, letting him pull her up from the couch. With cotton balls stuffed between her toes, she wobbled after him to the front door. Grabbing his jacket from the coat rack, he turned to her. “So you’ll come?”

Keep reading

I have watched this scene a thousand times and I remember the very first time I watched it and my heart still does the same funny thing.

I remember absolutely losing my shit at the shot of the flowers in the air and I was like “OMG BRENNAN’S GONNA CATCH THE BOUQUET. ARE THEY ACTUALLY GOING THERE. ARE THEY GOING TO DO IT???????? OMGGGG.” And they teased us with the slow mo shot, heh. (When I rewatch this scene, I STILL get that anticipation of excitement.)

AND OF COURSE SHE DID.

I adore that she looks back at Booth,who just does an adorable smile/half shrug, trying to seem nonchalant when you know he’s screaming on the inside, like all of us. HAHAHA.

No, but seriously, the marriage arc on Bones was just perfect, there was NEVER a single instance when Booth pestered Brennan about marriage. The ball was in her court all the way through, and Booth absolutely would have been fine if they had never married in the end (”I LOVE EVERYDAY.”) A testament to how much Booth loves her but also a point of great character development for Booth, who was once fixated on the idea that he HAD to get married. (Arguably, you could say that his change of heart was because Brennan was the only one who really mattered, which is equally valid, but I like to think that Booth learnt something from his previous mistakes).

And here, Brennan was not horrified at the thought of catching the flowers; marriage no longer seems like such an awful concept when it’s in relation to Booth ;)

wednesdaysandwhich  asked:

Nico and will getting to know each other through regular camp activities(They've both been through so much, I just need them whole and healing)

Here you go! But seriously, how do you end things?


How hate turned to love

Nico wasn’t lying when he said that he had hated the three-day stay in the infirmary. Sure, he had been allowed to go outside on the third day of his stay to ‘get some sun so that he could get his Italian tan back’ or something along those lines, but he still didn’t like being holed up in a room with white and yellow walls along with a bed with white bedsheets and a cupboard full of medical equipment. It made him unhappy to be in the light. He had complained about it to Will the morning of the second day, and when he thought back on it, he didn’t really know what to make of the conversation.

“I really hate being in this room. It’s too bright,” Nico grumbled as Will took his blood pressure. “And it’s even worse that you forced me to sleep with the lights on. That’s just straight-out embarrassing. The Son of Hades sleeping with the lights on?”

“It’s for your own good,” Will said, whistling as he stitched up Nico’s arm – the werewolf poison had dissolved the first set of mortal stitches, so now they were trying again, this time with enchanted thread. “I don’t want you to fade, so I don’t want you to be exposed to more darkness than there is in your body. It’s a lethal amount, you know. It’s eating you up from the inside.”

“I don’t care. How would feel if you were trapped in darkness the whole time? It’s the same thing with me and the light.”

Will stopped halfway in doing a stitch, the needle still deep in Nico’s arm. “Well, I guess you make a point, but I still have to keep you in the light. Just until the three days are up. After that, you can sleep without a light on again. Will that make you happy?”

It had made Nico happy to be able to be able to move back to his cabin and sleep in the darkness, but of course he hadn’t told Will that. In fact, he hadn’t talked to Will the last two weeks, apart from answering a couple questions about his health during the check-up one week ago.

He had done pretty well with avoiding Will outside of the check-ups, but a Thursday a month after his stay in the infirmary, he came to the sword-fighting class he taught with Percy to find the last person he expected to see there. Will Solace. Being taught by Percy how to disarm someone.

The tip of Nico’s sword hit the ground and the two demigods looked up, Will wiping the sweat away from his forehead with the back of his free hand.

“What the Hades are you doing here, Solace?” Nico asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the infirmary or with the rest of your cabin in archery?”

“Will here wanted to be able to handle a sword better,” Percy explained, taking a sip of his water bottle. “He’s not too bad. His moves are pretty rusty, but he has good reflexes and is a fast learner. Can you go through the basics with him while I teach the rest of the kids?”

Nico was about to say that he didn’t want anything to do with Will when he heard himself say, “Sure, why not?”

“Great!” Percy said before walking over to the rest of the group, which consisted of about a dozen demigods from different cabins.

Will smiled at Nico, his sky-blue eyes twinkling in the sunshine. Nico silently groaned, but picked up his sword and walked towards Will, wanting nothing more than to dive into the nearest shadow. How had he gotten himself into this mess?

A month later, it was Will’s time to be confused when Nico appeared in the archery class taught by his sister Kayla.

“I’m not here because I want to,” Nico muttered when Will asked him about it. “I lost a bet, okay? I have to take archery for a month.”

Over the next few archery classes, Will got to learn more about Nico, for example that his favourite colour was blue (not black like Will had originally thought), his birthday was the 28th of January and that he could speak Ancient Greek, Latin and Italian fluently.

“Really? Your favourite colour is purple?” Nico asked incredulously. “I would have thought it would have been like, green or red.

“Nope, it’s purple,” Will said, pointing to a part of the bandage. “If you cut it there, it should be long enough to wrap a small wound.”

Nico didn’t even say anything as he cut the bandage. So what if he was learning how to wrap wounds and stuff in the infirmary by Will? They were just friends. Whoa, that felt weird. Had he just called Will his friend? He had, and it had felt natural too, not wrong or forced at all.

“Nico? Are you okay? You totally zoned out for a minute there,” Will’s worried voice broke through his thoughts and he looked up at Will’s concerned face.

“I got lost in some thoughts.” Nico was silent for a bit. “We’re friends, right?”

“Of course we are.” Will pointed to a patient. “She just came in with a twisted ankle. Think you can fix it?”

Nico nodded with a determined expression. He could do this. He had learned and practised this for weeks now.

“Will? Why is Nico sitting with us?” Ella, Will’s seven-year-old sister asked one day at dinner. It was quite a cold day, and Nico was sitting closer to Will than usual in an attempt to steal the Son of Apollo’s body heat.

“Because he’s lonely at his own table. Therefore he’s sitting with me because we’re friends. That’s what friends do. We make sure that the other friend is not lonely. Right?”

Ella nodded. “Yeah! You’re my friend too, Nico. Because I don’t want you to be alone. That’s okay, right?”

Nico let a small smile tug at his lips. “Yes. That’s okay.”

“Five minutes, everybody!” Leo called out. All the campers were on the beach, counting down the minutes until New Years. Will was standing with Nico, the rest of the Seven as well as Rachel, Reyna and Calypso.

Everyone was holding their hands with their respective other – Percy with Annabeth, Piper with Jason, Hazel with Frank, Leo with Calypso and Reyna with Rachel. The only two not holding hands were Nico and Will, who were both sneaking glances at each other when they thought the other one didn’t see. The rest of their small crowd smirked at each other, knowing that both boys had massive crushes on the other.

Will swallowed. “Hey, Nico? Can I talk to you for a moment?”

Nico nodded as Leo called out, “Three minutes!”

They walked a bit away from the rest of the campers and Will took a deep breath. “There’s something I gotta tell you.”

Nico looked up at Will’s face illuminated by the lights hanging from the trees surrounding the beach. “Go ahead.”

Two minutes.

“You see Nico, I, um.” Will  silently cursed himself. He had never been good with words, but now was really not the time for his tongue to completely tie itself into knots.”

90 seconds.

“You what?” Nico asked confused. He had no idea what Will’s was going to say. Of course, he had his hopes, but they were firmly sealed away in his brain.

“I, um, I…”

One minute.

“Will? Are you okay? You look really nervous.” Nico had no idea why Will as acting like this, but he was assuming that something was wrong.

“I…” Will took a deep breath.

30 seconds.

“Damn it,” Will swore, running a hand through his hair. “I really like you, okay? Like, like you.”

Silence.

Nico’s mind was going 90 miles an hour. Will… Will liked him?

10 seconds.

Nico could feel his eyes fill with tears of happiness and relief. “Really?”

5 seconds.

“I understand if you don’t like me back,” Will continued. “But I just wanted to tell you.”

“No! I really like you too!” Nico said quickly.

3 seconds.

Several emotions flashed across Will’s face before he stepped closer to Nico.

2 seconds.

“Can I kiss you?” Will breathed, wanting to kiss Nico before the New Year officially started.

1 second.

“Please do,” Nico whispered before pressing his lips against Will’s. It was his first kiss and he knew that it was Will’s first kiss too. He had learned that a month ago when it randomly came up in a conversation. But that didn’t matter now. Kiss Will now, think later, his brain reminded him and he closed his eyes, happily listening to his brain for once.

0 seconds.

“...Ted, this scene in the script confuses me.”

Ted the Animator: “Uh-huh?”

Carl the Animator: “I’m serious! It’s weird, and makes, like, no sense at all!”

Ted the Animator: “You said the same thing about french toast yesterday.”

Carl the Animator: “Which I still stand by, but seriously now, come look at this.”

Carl the Animator: “So, we start with Shaggy sleeping in a dark bedroom, right?”

Ted the Animator: “Right.”

Carl the Animator: “We cut to a closeup of–”

Ted the Animator: “–Shaggy against a bright yellow wall, because someone didn’t pay attention to the pitch-black background in the wide shot–”

Carl the Animator: “Yeah yeah yeah, shh. We cut to a closeup of Shaggy trying to sleep.”

Carl the Animator: “Mysterious floating hand tries to wake him up. It goes into a little scene of Shaggy thinking it’s a normal person trying to wake him up.”

Ted the Animator: “Yup, the same type of gag the show’s had since the dawn of time. So?”

Carl the Animator:So, Shaggy crushes the floating hand, like, really hard. You wouldn’t do that if you thought it was a person waking you.”

Ted the Animator: “Eh, it’s a ghostly glove, it’s prolly all soft inside. Your point is?”

Carl the Animator: “And then, Shaggy throws it across the bed.”

Ted the Animator: “…huh.”

Carl the Animator: “He, like, just whips it away! What sort of guy tries to throw the person waking him up across the room?

Ted the Animator: “Wait a minute… are… are you….”

Carl the Animator: “…?”

Ted the Animator: “Are you implying Scooby-Doo scripts… don’t always make perfect sense in every single way?!

Carl the Animator: “Oh, shaddup. I found a mistake, let me bask in the glory for a bit.”

4

Alright. Public service announcement. If you guys see posts like this DONT REBLOG THEM. I mean seriously. It’s not cool. These are all just screen shot from someone’s blog and then reposted. And look at how many notes and likes they have! And even Tumblr is freaking suggesting them to me?! No.

INTERVIEWER: How do you tread that very fine line between sustained entertainment and drama, and overload?

MOFFAT: D’you know what? If people reel away from a television show saying, ‘Overloaded! I’m overloaded!’ … that’s okay, isn’t it? I’d watch something that overloaded me. I wouldn’t want people to go away saying, ‘God, that was boring, it was nothing but really really long establishing shots with people in posh frocks, having conversations about things they already both know’ … Overload sounds okay to me. 

I know this can probably grate with older members of the audience, but I always say – I’m always saying in the edit, ‘Cut it like a trailer! It was really exciting in the trailer, make it like the trailer, get the hell on with it!’

We’re dealing – quite seriously, and I’m not just saying this as random flattery – I do think the human race is getting cleverer, generation by generation. The younger members of our audience are wolfing down that plot – they know where it’s going, and they’re texting their friends – or not texting, they’re tweeting their friends, or they’re instagramming, or any of those modern things! And playing a computer game at the same time.

Y’know – it’s difficult to overload minds like that.

(Steven Moffat, Oxford Union Q&A, November 2016 [x])

*Note the interview topic directly following and preceding the above excerpt was Doctor Who.

        


There’s the full quote in context, folks.